Commercialism
by Hawki
Summary: Oneshot: Few would claim that Earth of 2019 had the same appeal it had decades ago, hence why so many went to the Off-world colonies. But what was the cause behind this degradation? Having landed on the planet, Roy and Leon pondered such a question.


_Advertising is the science of arresting the human intelligence long enough to get some money out of it_

-Stephen Leacock

**Commercialism**

"They're their own worst enemies…"

Leon glanced at his companion, Roy Batty's words having drawn him out of the depths of his mind into the real world. A repeating occurrence as it was, for ever since arriving on Earth, his thoughts had been focused on a select few issues-death, longevity, the chance of being "retired," Zhora… Reality was something that he wanted as little of as possible.

"Pardon?" Leon murmured. He didn't resent casual conversation, but having been developed to be a grunt for Off-World colonization, small talk wasn't among his strong points.

"Them," said Roy, gesturing with a hand down the street which they worked. "They're the architects of their own degeneration."

Leon looked down the street which the two Replicants walked, a street just like any other in Los Angeles. Dark, filthy, wet… If anything it was more so than usual, being reserved for ground traffic that would leave its filthy marks on the pavement.

And yet people lived in this den. At least they did if one used the term "living" in the most liberal mindset possible for the choice of the word. The darkness and lack of light, natural or electric, didn't help matters, yet Leon could see people down the street, huddled around fires. The tallest was about five feet tall, the smallest akin to children, yet Leon knew that they were all older than he was.

_Not that that would take much, _he thought bitterly. At only two years of age, he was younger than most people on this planet. Yet thanks to the safeguards installed by the Tyrell Corporation, he'd die before most of them also.

Of course, given the poor state that the people in this area were in, perhaps exceptions could be made, even if he didn't find a way to increase his lifespan.

"I don't get it," said the Replicant. "Humans have the technology to explore the galaxy, develop synthetics, create life through artificial means…" He trailed off, flexing his fingers, marveling at how perfect life could be yet simultaneously lead a doomed existence. "Yet there are people here that live no better than us."

Roy smiled, the flicker of the fires on his face making him seem akin to a wraith. "Earth doesn't conform to the notion of being the heart of humanity, Leon. That's what the Off-World colonies are for. To create new, better worlds rather than fixing up the one that people started off in the first place."

Leon remained silent. A set amount of information had been programmed into his mind upon creation, all of it indistinguishable from true experience. Yet regardless of the circumstances, history had never been something that he'd been exposed to, only hearing off-hand comments as to how Earth had become the way it was and why next to nothing was being done about it.

He wasn't that surprised he didn't have access to history. Too many revolutions in the name of freedom. They probably hadn't wanted him to get ideas.

"Then why not leave Earth?" Leon asked, passing by a coughing figure that he couldn't tell was male or female. "Why not alleviate their condition?"

Roy chuckled. "Commercialism, Leon. Money makes the world go round, and those who fall out of its orbit it establishes don't get back in."

Leon found himself unable to answer. He understood his role in the social order, even if he didn't like it. But the idea that his oppressors had their own oppressed… He couldn't get his head around it.

"Why not use these people as workers then?" asked Leon. "If destitute exist, why not employ them rather than relying on slave labor?"

Roy sighed, making a fist with his right hand. Leon raised an eyebrow, thinking how his friend seemed to be doing that an awful lot lately, often without any indication as to why. Yet it was his face that truly caught his attention this time. A type of…understanding. Not just of himself, but of something larger.

"Commercialism is based on the principle that there are people of different intelligence," said Roy eventually. "They create us to be beings of superior intelligence, yet regard us as being simpletons." He turned to face Leon. "And by regarding us as something below them, our creators are elevated by default." He gestured across the street. "They don't see the need to help these people, because their own creations are below them."

Leon fell silent, partly out of the realization of the truth behind Roy's words, partly out of him realizing that there _was _indeed light in this street apart from the fires created by its inhabitants for warmth. Light that was far from comforting…

Signs.

They were everywhere, casting their red glow upon those who dwelt below. An electronic sign on each building, some in English, most in Asian languages that he couldn't read. Yet he knew what they meant, knew how they were advertising goods or services. They loomed above them, representing the powers that be. Representing those who were content to let their own people dwell in squalor while creating slaves.

_We're all in the same boat_, Leon thought to himself, remembering the Blade Runner he'd shot back in the Tyrell Corporation. He'd derived satisfaction from it at the time, yet now felt a degree of pity for the man. He had his job to do, one spurred by the practices of an immoral corporation.

"Anyway, best not to think about it," said Roy eventually. "Besides, we've arrived."

Leon stopped, looking up at the building that Roy had led him to. He clenched his fist. He knew what lay in here, what occurred in here.

"You coming?" asked Roy, standing in the doorway.

Leon nodded and walked in, but not without glancing back to the street where he had once walked, to those of supposedly inferior intelligence. But like his creators, he could never be sure of that. With morality as unstable as Earth's climate, he never would.

Not even _Eye World _would be able to provide the answers.


End file.
